


Fear

by robinh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1356337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinh/pseuds/robinh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda May never knew fear. Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear

Melinda May never knew fear.

Until now.

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, clamping her fists in a futile attempt to stop her hands from shaking. It's no use. She feels the cold tightness building up in her chest, the choking sensation in her throat. So this is what fear feels like… She could scream.

She looks around her, at the dark and empty airplane. She never felt so alone in her life. Being here, shouldn't be that hard, should it? She looks around her, it feels so strange in here suddenly.

He made her afraid. For the first time in years, she felt she was falling, carried away by unopposed powers. The cold gaze in his eyes when he looked at her, devoid of any emotions… then, the fight.

She walks silently in the damaged corridors, the shattered glass wall, when she walks she can hear the sound of broken glass under her feet. The bar is all messed up, broken glasses everywhere, spilled whiskey and vodka. The pillows in the living room are torn, thrown haphazardly on the floor. She stops in front of the white wall of the lobby, small splatters of blood are still there, looking black in the dim night lighting. She takes a deep breath, trying to gain control on her racing heart when images of Ward, strong and determined charging towards her bombard her brain again.

She was never so afraid in her life. Not in New Orleans, not with her mother, not even in Bahrain… She fought for her life before, fought for others' lives too, and she always did her best, no matter the cost. She never thought she would doubt her ability to pay the necessary price when it comes to it. When he stormed forward, when he held the gun to her head, looking at her with so much indifference she could scream, when she realized she can't reach him anymore, that it's going to be him or her. There was a flicker of a second, a fleeting moment when she knew, absolutely knew, she would never be able to kill him.

She snorts with self contempt. Remembering how she bragged to Sif, telling her she's stronger than him, a better warrior. She lied. Not about her qualifications, she's more experienced than him, faster, more ruthless… It wasn't the point. She lied when she said she didn't love him, she lied when she said she'll fight him till the end. She realized it when she threw him through the glass wall, in a failed attempt to stop him. She knew then and there, she'd rather die than to hurt him. This is when she started being afraid. Afraid of herself.

She walks to the cockpit. Her kingdom. Maybe here she'll feel more secured. More in control. It's no use. The fear is even bigger here, in the silent chamber with the familiar flickering lights and reassuring buzzing of the computer. His image is so vivid there, it's physically hurt. There he is, sitting next to her, pleading. She lied again, then. Out of fear. Sold him a ridiculous explanation that was so transparent, even he with his poor communication skills could spot it in a second. If he did, he showed no indication for it. He was respectful enough not to argue, just left her there, before they can start another fight. When he shut the door behind him, in greater force than he usually does, an only sign of his frustration, she was left alone. Alone with her fear. A fear than didn't leave her since. She's terrified. Terrified she lost everything.

She can't breathe suddenly. The cockpit is too small, the walls are coming closer and closer around her. She breaks out the door and makes her way quickly to the living area, but it's not enough, the quiet is too heavy, the darkness almost blinding. She runs out of the plane as fast as she can. The sound of her feet on the tarmac is the only sound in the desert night as she runs and runs, trying to escape her fear, her pain and the mistakes she'd done. She runs, breathless, without direction or plan, without even thinking. Trying to get as far away as she can from the scene of the crime. She hopes the sound of the wind in her ears swallows her cries.

She's not surprised when she realizes eventually that her feet carried her all the way to the barracks, on the other side of the S.H.I.E.L.D base they're parked at. She's not surprised when they finally make her stop to find herself behind his closed door. Then her hand moves, as though on its own accord, and presses the handle.

He's a specialist. The smallest sound wakes him up immediately, making him jump in his bed, reaching for his gun. Or maybe, he wasn't sleeping at all, restless like she is, she doesn't know.

"It's me" she whispers, still at the door.

He doesn't say anything, only sits on the bed, and she can hear him trying to control his rapid breathing. She can't see his face. It's too dark. She's relieved to realize he also can't see hers. They are both just shadows in the dead of night, frozen, paralyzed, positioned a few feet from each other in a small room, but it feels like there are miles and miles between them.

Maybe he's still asleep. Maybe he's dreaming. Maybe she is, too. She has no idea. Finally he gets up, and walks towards her hesitatingly, like he's afraid he might scare her off. He stops a few inches from her, and she has to look up to try and make out his face. She can't, the darkness is too thick, but she can feel his warmth radiates against her frozen body, and she can feel his breath on her face.

He drops to the ground, slowly. Moving to crouch on his knees, tentatively reaching with his hands to hold her around her waist. He looks up at her, as he pulls her gently towards him, and lays his chin on her stomach. She moves her hands to his hair, because she just can't bear not to. The touch of her hands makes him release a deep sigh of relief.

"You came back to me" he whispers, before he buries his face in her stomach. Kissing the sweaty skin tenderly, his hands hold her close to him, like he will never let her go.

She presses his head to her body, tightly. Letting his warm skin warm her again and stop the shaking. He sighs again, and she does the same, releasing the air out for the first time in days. And just like that, she's not afraid anymore.


End file.
